Tag Archives: Poems

The music goes off….

I’m sitting at the back of the pub when the music
goes off, and the dance floor descends into total chaos,
a full on brawl.
The place has only been open an hour, I’ve only had
two drinks and a riot has broken out, it’s a 7 on 7
free for all, chairs are flying over head.
Glasses, Bottles, Shoes are being tossed around
at all angles and it’s slowly making it’s way to my
table where I’m sitting by myself with a Jack Daniel’s
and Coke and I’m a reading a news story on my

The 7 on 7 aspiring alcoholics, punching, kicking,
choking, glassing and chairing each other get closer and
closer to my table, so I down my drink and close
down my phone ready to make my way towards
the exit to find a new pub.
Thats when the police rush in, I can’t count how many of
them there are but it’s enough to hold off any
unwanted hooligan with a pint of carling in his
hand ready to smash someone’s face in.

They drag them out of the pub and into cars
and riot vans and that’s when I decide to leave
the place.
I look around at the carnage as i walk towards the door
and i see that the bar staff are on the floor somehow,
I never even noticed them getting involved, the chair
throwing and the glassing’s took me away from everything
else that was happening around the place.

So I leave and walking down the street I can hear
the sirens in the distance taking away the brawlers and
crazies and people walking beside me asking questions about
what has happened.
People i recognise that were in the pub are talking and
laughing about what they have just seen, typing on their
phones about the choas.
Then I find an irish pub and walk through the doors
and it’s empty…..


What a way to live

It’s not a gold plated sort of place
it’s never to going be a monochrome jewel
of a experience.
Just a solid 8 hour day.
Surrounded by old metal and rusty
and that’s when you can find yourself
staring at a poster with a bored little
pug who’s been put on trial.

What a way to live
what a way to laugh.

This little dog is a not a god
But a pet going down for 10 years
a life time for the poor little dog.

What a way to live and laugh.

Potato fight

Walking through the town centre
on a busy Saturday afternoon looking
for a place to eat and calm down and
to get out of the craziness of the
high street I notice this new place
next to the shopping centre, Awesome
Chips it’s called, selling chips and
chips only.

The thought runs through my head
that this is just going to be a fancy new
hipster like establishment selling fancy
chips made from fancy spuds with
fancy sauce in a fancy package.

I get close and that’s when I hear screaming
coming from inside the store, yelling and
That’s when a man around fifty wearing
grey jacket and dark blue jeans comes crashing
out of the store and falling into a cage containing
large bags of potatoes and spilling the
bags all over the street.

As the potatoes roll down the road a
large man abit younger than him and
much larger comes walking out after
the old man, his fists raised and yelling
The old man gets up and just walks
away and walks down the street
and sits down at bus shelter.

This doesn’t seem like the typical
hipster place that I thought it would be.

It happened last week

Didn’t this happen last week?
Didn’t this happen 10 years ago?
50 years?
100 years ago?
History really does repeat it self
doesn’t it.
The long journeys and
the strange nights just seem to be
the same as they were a year ago.
The new seems to tell me the
same story they told 50 years ago.
The headlines and the bars just
seem to be the same.

Christmas soon roles around the corner and
you’ll sit down around the table and talk
about the food you’re about to here and try to
remember how you did things the year
you wonder if you put the tree the same
place you did last year and if you managed
to make it through the day without falling
down the stairs drunk.

History really repeats it’s self.

Little Santa fella

There I am dancing to myself in the club,
surrounded by drunken bobble headed people throwing
their drinks around and pushing all the dancing people
about and around the dance floor, my shoes stick
to stale Booze that’s been spilt on the floor
and Broken glass being kicked to the side.

Out of nowhere, through the strobe lights and
heavy metal music in the background comes
a small Santa looking fella (I thought Christmas
was over) and puts his arm on my shoulder “can
you come with me please” so I walk
with him.

I inquire with him as to why I’m being walked out
of the club, well not walked out but thrown
out and Santa tells me it doesn’t matter mate as he
pushes me through the fire exit and into the
cold of the street.

I walked around to the front doors and
hand my coat ticket to one of the bouncers
and I turn to a guy who’s arguing with
the man because he’s being refused entry
to the place that holds Santa tribute acts and
I tell him they kicked me out and apparently
it doesn’t matter and he tells me he’s not
being allowed in because he has a tie on,
but I don’t see any tie.

I’m given my coat and I’m told that
apparently I hit some girl with my drink
even though I never had a drink in my hand
and I was surrounded by a group of people
having a JD and coke fight, but I’m the
one uncle Albert decided to pick on and just
casually walk out and into the cold air of the